


more than fun, you're the sanctuary

by inariyama



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Atsumu Is Whipped, Attempt at Humor, Awkwardness, Background Relationships, First Kiss, Fluff and Humor, Getting Together, Innuendo, Kendo, Kyudo, M/M, Maybe The Pining Is Mutual?, OOC-ness ensues, Pining, Rivalry, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:54:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26792479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inariyama/pseuds/inariyama
Summary: In kendo, there are four things you need to avoid to achieve your prime state of mind: hesitation, surprise, fear and doubt.When it comes to a certain archery club’s captain named Sakusa Kiyoomi, Miya Atsumu suddenly finds himself confronted with all four.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 29
Kudos: 520





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First time posting a work in this fandom! Inspired by this [fanart](https://twitter.com/anta_baka00/status/1311530658200580102?s=21) by user @anta_baka00 on Twitter. As a total noob in Japanese martial arts, I _tried_ to do research for this fic but I apologize in advance if I got anything wrong!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here are a few terms I feel like I should clarify! Firstly, crash course in the point system of kendo. Player can gain points by attacking certain parts on their opponent's body with their _shinai_ aka bamboo sword. This includes _men_ (the face/head area), _kote_ (the wrists area), _tsuki_ (the throat area), or _do (_ the body.) The _debana_ mentioned in the fic is an offensive technique where you strike your opponent right as you sense that they are going to attack!  
> Of course you don't have to remember all these but we learn new things every day :)

* * *

**Hesitation**

_Concentrate_.

Atsumu took a deep breath, analyzing his opponent’s movements, searching for a weakness. They were a safe distance apart, but he knew his opponent was going to try to approach soon – it was clear throughout the match that he prioritized offense over defense. A risky way of playing, but not necessarily bad. Just as Atsumu had anticipated, the person in front of him charged forward, lifting his _shinai_ , aiming for a _men_ strike. Only needing one more point to win, it seemed like he had gotten quite impatient – and that's exactly where Atsumu wanted him to be.

_There it is._

Atsumu’s smirk was hidden behind his mask as he leaped to the side, avoiding the calculated hit by mere inches. The opponent was caught off guard and lost his balance for a split second – and that was all Atsumu needed to push his _shinai_ forward at an angle, landing a flawless _tsuki_ strike on his opponent's throat. Having won two points, Atsumu had certainly claimed his victory; the referees also agreed as they raised their red flags, signaling that the point went to Atsumu. He let out a shaky exhale as he felt the adrenaline rush slowly worn off; both of the players retreated to their respective resting position on the court, bowing to each other before they departed to the side.

“As expected from our captain,” Hinata Shouyou, a first year member of the kendo club, whispered to him as he settled down on the west side of the _dojo_. “I heard people from this academy’s kendo club are so good that they normally won’t even accept invitations to practice matches. But you completely demolished that guy.”

“I could have done better,” Atsumu whispered back, his voice nearly muffled by the ongoing sounds of shinai colliding against each other. “That _debana-kote_ at the beginning could have been avoided.”

“In the end, you still won, didn’t you?” Hinata laughed it off. “Though I’d have to admit, it’s weird to see you lose point to a _debana-waza._ It doesn't happen very often, let alone a wrist strike.”

“Well-observed, Shou-chan.” Atsumu shifted on his knees. He felt a slight discomfort – though he wasn't entirely sure what was the cause of it.

“Y’know, talking about _weird_ , I could have sworn I saw Sakusa-san just now,” Hinata continued. “He passed by the door in a hurry, but I could tell it was him. I was gonna wave at him, but then I got distracted by the _debana_ strike.”

“You’re seeing things, Shou-chan. Omi-kun has no business passing by our _dojo_ at this time. Shouldn’t he be worrying about his own kyudo club?”

Hinata only hummed in acknowledgement, as his attention was soon captured by the ongoing practice match, featuring his boyfriend Kageyama Tobio. Atsumu watched too, yet he couldn't stop thinking about the _debana-kote_ that he lost a point to – a strike to the wrist, usually executed as the opponent was about to launch their attack. Atsumu was a careful person, even more so when it came to kendo; the only person who was ever able to land a _debana-kote_ on him since high school was his twin brother Osamu, who gave up the sport to attend culinary school in Tokyo. His previous opponent, a tall, lanky guy from a private academy in Sendai who definitely only put his bare minimum into the match, certainly wouldn't have been able to do so with ease. His fists tightened on the fabric of his hakama as he replayed the scene inside his head.

_It only took two seconds of hesitation._

Atsumu clicked his tongue.

Hinata wasn't wrong. Deep inside, Atsumu knew he did indeed have a moment of faltered determination; in his defense, it was impossible not to – not when out of the corner of his vision, he had seen Sakusa Kiyoomi, carrying his bow in one hand, swiftly passed by the entrance of the _dojo_ , elegant and vain like a red-crowned crane.

Then, a mildly painful knock on his wrist dragged him back to the match at hand, followed by the sight of two white flags, assigning the point to Sendai Academy.

* * *

**Surprise**

“You should have told me if you were gonna visit, Omi-kun.”

Sakusa looked at him through a curtain of dark lashes, his expression as unreadable as the depth of his obsidian eyes. He stayed quiet for a few more seconds, as if ignoring Atsumu’s existence as a whole, and Atsumu was really thinking about leaving. He had no business even being here in the first place. Everything about the archery club’s captain rubs Atsumu the wrong way – from his prideful, uptight attitude to the way he says Atsumu’s name like it was dirt on his tongue. Yet here he stood anyway, at the _kyudojo_ where the kyudo club held their meetings, during a late Friday afternoon when he was sure Sakusa would be the only person left, practicing by himself.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Miya.” Sakusa frowned, as he always did when he had to talk to Atsumu.

“C’mon, stop lying,” Atsumu let himself through the _kyudojo’s_ entrance, only after paying it a mindful bow. Sakusa, surprisingly, didn’t nag at him or tell him to stop – perhaps because he believed that Atsumu, as a martial art practitioner himself, would know enough etiquette to not disrespect the place. “You came over to my _dojo_ yesterday, didn't you? On the other side of campus.”

“I had to deliver some stuff to my cousin. He goes to Sendai Academy. It’s our only chance to see each other, and I didn't want to make him run across a campus he didn’t know.”

“Oh?” Atsumu teased with a coy smile. “Thought ya missed me or something.”

“You wish.” Sakusa gave him a burning glare. “On the same topic, what are you doing here?”

“I got bored after practice. Rumor has it that no one stays on campus as late as you do, so I decided to check it out for myself.”

Sakusa didn’t answer. In fact, he didn't even bat an eye on Atsumu as he prepared the position for his practice shot – feet apart, torso straight, bow and arrow ready as he fixed his gaze on the target across the field. With a steady raise of his arms, Sakusa drew the tight string away from the bow, the arrow lying still along the line of his pale forefinger. Atsumu was afraid to even breathe when Sakusa reached the full draw of the bow, calm and dignified like a bronze statue in the dim sunlight, awaiting the right moment to shoot. With a quiet release of his fingers, the arrow went flying forward swiftly, hitting the target square in the middle. Sakusa lowered his bow with a relieved sigh, gracefully concluding his performance.

Atsumu watched the whole thing in awe.

“You should close your mouth. Don’t dirty the floor with your drool.” Sakusa made a casual remark as he finally turned to look at Atsumu, smugness clear on his face.

“That was amazing,” was the first thing that Atsumu managed to utter. Then, without much thought, he proceeded to ask, “can I try?”

Sakusa scrunched his nose, seemingly half-disgusted and half-confused, as if he never would have expected Atsumu to ask that question. He blinked at Atsumu once, twice, as if trying to look for any signs to indicate that this might be another of Atsumu’s lame jokes. But when he realized Atsumu was dead serious, something else washed over his features.

“You wanna try.” Sakusa deadpanned.

“I thought I made that clear.” Atsumu shrugged. “Well, I guess you don't _have_ to let me try, and you can just say no if you don't want to--”

“I never said that, Miya.” Sakusa cut him off before he could finish his sentence.

“Wait, so you're saying I can?” Atsumu almost gasped out loud. According to his memory, Sakusa never really liked having him around, not even in the cafeteria where their clubs sit together sometimes – let alone in Sakusa’s own _kyudojo,_ the place that he probably held as dear to him as his home. 

“As long as you play by my rules and don’t get yourself killed in the process. The club is open for everyone to try, even if it’s, unfortunately, you,” Sakusa still sounded reluctant, but not totally unwelcoming.

“Ouch, Omi-kun.” Atsumu was more amused than he was offended by Sakusa’s words. “So what do I do exactly?”

“Grab a glove from the storage room down the hall. I’ll wait.”

Atsumu followed Sakusa’s instruction and came back moments later with a glove on his right hand. Sakusa signaled him to come over to the base position, handing him his own bow and arrow. He briefed through the basics of footing, holding posture and drawing the bow – which was surprisingly not too hard to understand. Sakusa demonstrated the different steps of archery posture by using his hands to physically mold Atsumu’s body in place: from the arch of his back to the angle of his shoulders. 

“You are too stiff,” Sakusa said, pressing his palm against the point where his nape met his left shoulder. Atsumu shivered slightly at the unprecedented touch. “Remember, this is not kendo. Your opponent is not a real human, but a single, unmoving target. Take things with ease.”

Atsumu nodded, hoping Sakusa didn’t notice the way his ears were turning redder as time went by. After giving Atsumu an okay for his posture, Sakusa instructed him to take the first aim as he readied his bow. Mimicking the way Sakusa did it earlier, Atsumu raised the bow slowly, taking his second aim as he started drawing the string, a bit taken aback by the strain it put on his upper body. Atsumu vaguely wondered if this was why Sakusa’s shoulders were so broad – a byproduct of his rigorous archery training.

“Don’t get distracted, Miya,” Sakusa took Atsumu’s right hand into his own to steady his arrow – he could barely feel the touch through the layers of fabric, but it was certainly there. “Your mind should be free of disturbance. As you reach _Kai_ , the full draw of the bow, your strength might waver. Concentrate. Don’t let go until you’re sure of your fourth aim.”

_Concentrate._ Atsumu told himself. _Easier said than done when you’re pressed against my back, Omi-kun._

“Whenever you’re ready.” 

Sakusa was gone in a moment, as quickly as he had appeared next to Atsumu. Without another person holding back the string for him, Atsumu could surely feel the full force of the bow string pulling on his muscles now, the arrow threatening to become misaligned due to his inexperienced shaky hands. Inhaling deeply, Atsumu closed one eye, taking his final aim at the target lying thirty meters across the field, before letting go of his fingers.

The arrow flew off into the distance with a reverberating _woosh_ sound, hitting the far left corner of the target, only a few centimeters shy of missing it completely. Atsumu dropped his arms with an exasperated sigh, a bit mad at himself for not meeting his own expectation.

“I’ve seen worse,” Sakusa commented nonchalantly. Atsumu really didn't expect Sakusa to say anything nicer than that, but it somehow still bothered him that he didn't get a proper praise.

“I think I did a pretty damn good job though,” Atsumu joked, handing Sakusa his bow. “It’s only a little bit off.”

“A little bit?” Sakusa had to stifle his laughter with the back of his gloved hand. “Aim a bit higher and you would have killed a poor bird, Miya.”

Firstly, Atsumu could never imagine himself killing a bird, even by accident. Secondly, even less likely than that, Atsumu never thought there would be a day that he could see Sakusa smile. The kyudo captain, standing in the muted orange hue of an autumn afternoon, with his face relaxed and his usual stoicism gone, looked like an illusion straight out of Atsumu’s far-fetched fantasy. But Sakusa was actually there, within his reach, and he shone so bright that Atsumu was starting to feel light-headed.

This burning feeling in Atsumu’s chest was definitely not normal, and being Atsumu, he might as well do something stupid about it.

“Hey, Omi-kun.” He contemplated for a moment before saying.

“What?” Sakusa looked at him, his head slightly tilted.

In lieu of an answer, Atsumu leaned forward and pressed his lips against Sakusa’s. It was a quick, chaste kiss that Atsumu didn’t dare prolong for fear that Sakusa might stab him with an arrow. When he pulled away, Sakusa’s eyes were wide open – likely had been the whole time – and his cheeks were tinted red. An apology was already on the tip of Atsumu’s tongue, but before he had a chance to say it, Sakusa broke the silence first.

“Get out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still proofreading the second chapter please hang in there with me! Comments / kudos are appreciated !!!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, thank you for all the love on the first chapter. I didn’t expect that for my first work in this fandom so you could say that I was very pleasantly surprised! Again, thank you so much for reading this ❤️  
> Secondly, I apologize for taking SO long to update this fic! School has been a bummer and I couldn’t find the time to write as well as to proofread this whole thing, so if there are any typos I would come back and edit them later! For the time being, bear with me and enjoy this last chapter!

**Fear**

Atsumu fell flat on his ass twice during practice on Tuesday. Twice.

Kageyama, being the condescending bastard that he was, had the audacity to let out a scoff while Atsumu whimpered in pain on the wooden floor; his shinai triumphantly pressed against the protective gear in front of Atsumu’s chest. The whole dojo was suddenly engulfed in a deafening silence - it’s not everyday that you could witness the club captain getting defeated (quite pathetically) by a first-year noob. Atsumu lifted himself up, swallowing his own pride as he bowed to Kageyama as their match concluded, his hands fisted into the fabric of his hakama. _It’s just a minor hiccup_ , Atsumu reassured himself. _I’d get back on track in no time._

However, Mr. Tanaka, his coach, seemed to disagree.

“At this rate you might not make the cut for the tournament in December,” he explained with a slight scowl on his face. “I hate to point it out, but you have been slacking recently.”

“But I’m---” Atsumu tried to protest. _I’m the club captain, for god’s sake._ “...trying my best. I’ll be fine.”

“Kendo requires you to make peace within yourself, Miya. Introspection is a great factor of determining the path of your sword. When your introspection isn't clear, it renders you confused and afraid. Your mind has been clouded these days, am I right?”

Atsumu didn't know the right answer to that question. Frankly throughout his years of practicing the sport, he never quite believed in its complicated philosophy. For Atsumu, everything had always been about strength, strategy and dexterity – but perhaps that was because he never had anything that sat on his mind as persistently and forcefully as Sakusa Kiyoomi. He couldn't channel his attention fully to kendo when the image of Sakusa’s graceful shooting posture haunted his mind on a daily basis. Even when he was asleep, he would see him in his dreams, flawlessly in the _Kai_ position before _Hanare_ ; and before he even knew it, an arrow would dash toward Atsumu, impaling him gratefully in the heart. The pain had felt real, but it was still better than the silent treatment Sakusa was giving him – Atsumu could wake up from any nightmares, but he couldn't escape this brutal reality in which the person of his longing actively ghosted him like he was the plague.

_I want to see him._

“Yer moping.” Osamu said to him on the phone, during one late night that Atsumu was kept awake by a mountain of assignments (and also a big fat unrequited crush that he was too proud to admit he had). Though Osamu’s monotonous voice offered little to no sign of sympathy, Atsumu honestly couldn't have asked for more. He just wanted some company and would take what he could get.

“I haven't even said anything.” Atsumu weakly retorted.

“I can tell.” Osamu continued on, half-joking. “Back in senior year when Kita-san dumped ya while ya were in training camp, ya called me in the middle of the night and was silent for fifteen minutes after I picked up. I don’t know if you are aware, but that's exactly what you're doing right now.”

“Am I that obvious?” Atsumu asked, resting his forehead against a stack of textbooks.

“To me? yes,” replied Osamu. “To others? Also yes.”

“I hate ya so much.”

“The sentiment is mutual. Now spill.”

With his limited skills in linguistics, it took a moment before Atsumu could finally tell the tale of what happened between him and Sakusa – in fragmented, messy details. He went all the way back to the beginning: their first argument at the club fair that soon led to the iconic rivalry between the kendo and kyudo clubs. Being petty as he was, Atsumu thought it would be a good idea to bombard Sakusa with his presence everywhere he went, until they could become civil again. It was all just small things – arranging for their clubs to sit together at the cafeteria during meetings, intentionally passing by the Science building where he knew Sakusa frequented, or even waiting to get in line right behind him when he was getting Starbucks near the library. And splendidly did his plan work: Sakusa’s scowl still remained permanent on his face whenever he spotted Atsumu’s blonde hair, but there was subtle fondness in his eyes when he talked to Atsumu – a fondness that Atsumu knew by heart, having spent his whole life with a twin brother who was equally deadpanned and emotionally constipated.

“Guess I pushed too hard, and now he's run away for good.” Atsumu admitted with a bitter laugh. “I made a mistake, Samu. I played myself. By always showing up where he was, I didn't realize that I saw him just as much as he had to see me. But then I was the dumbass who caught feelings first.”

“I agree with the part where you said you were a dumbass.” Osamu didn’t sugarcoat his words, and Atsumu was ready to throw hands (if only Osamu wasn’t a few hundreds miles away.) “But I bet this Sakusa guy didn't hate you as much as you made it out to be. In fact, if he really hated you, he probably wouldn't have let you off so easily after you kissed him. It’s 2020, but _those_ kinds of rumors can still ruin your life if he had decided to tell everyone about it. Plus he had a lethal weapon on him at the time. He had everything he needed to make your life miserable, yet he chose not to.”

“Yer just trying to make me feel better.” Atsumu sighed.

“Trust me, I would never do that. All I’m saying is, maybe ya should get his number and try to talk to him. The worst case scenario is that he ignores ya – which I’m pretty sure is already happening. Just get it over with and get some closure. What are you afraid of?”

All things considered, Atsumu didn't like that Osamu was making an awful lot of sense. His question rang inside Atsumu’s head, bouncing off the chamber of his mind like a rhythm Atsumu couldn't get rid of.

_What am I afraid of?_

  
  


**Doubt**

  
  


**8:25 to: OmiOmi**

hello

**8:26 from: OmiOmi**

Sorry who is this?

**8:26 to: OmiOmi**

it’s me miya atsumu from kendo

i’m sorry i found ur number on the kyudo club’s website

istg i’m not a creep i just wanna talk

**8:31 from: OmiOmi**

...Miya

What do you want?

**8:31 to: OmiOmi**

can we pls talk

**8:32 from: OmiOmi**

We are talking.

What /exactly/ do you want?

**8:32 to: OmiOmi**

about what happened friday.

can we meet face to face? i promise i would stop bothering you after this

**8:33 from: OmiOmi**

…

Give me one good reason to see you

**8:33 to: OmiOmi**

well

im devastatingly handsome? lol

all jokes aside tho, can we meet?

**8:36 from: OmiOmi**

…You disgust me

Fine

Can you come by my dorms?

I assume you know where that is.

**8:37 to: OmiOmi**

right now?

ok i’ll be there in 5

-

It was only a short walk from Atsumu’s apartment complex to where the dorms were. The weather was turning cold at this time of the year – the chilly air, ruthlessly rushing into his face, made Atsmu’s nose red and his fingers tingle. To be honest, even if Sakusa had wanted to meet up at an IKEA warehouse eighty miles away from their city, Atsumu would have complied anyway. He wanted to see Sakusa. He wanted to make it right.

Once Atsumu got closer to the dorms, it wasn’t difficult to spot Sakusa’s exceptionally tall figure leaning against a ginkgo tree, with his mask pulled all the way past his nose, eyes glued onto his phone. Atsumu vaguely registered how different he looked outside of his club activities: unlike the prideful man Atsumu often saw carrying his bow and arrow with much grace like a mythical deity, this Sakusa looked...ordinary, wearing a plain tracksuit and a pair of old sneakers. He hardly stood out - almost blending in with his somber surroundings, bathing in the dim street light that casted streaks of gold onto his midnight black hair. He stayed still even as Atsumu was approaching, too occupied by whatever was on his phone, as if he was stuck in time - anyone who passed by him would have mistaken him for a gypsum statue.

He hardly stood out, but for Atsumu, Sakusa had always been the only one he could see.

“Hey,” Atsumu called out nervously, not really expecting an answer. Sakusa didn’t have his headphones on, but Atsumu wouldn’t be surprised if he chose to willingly ignore Atsumu anyway.

Sakusa turned his head. Even with his mask on, Atsumu could tell he was frowning. “Miya,” he said, quietly but borderline snarly, like Atsumu’s last name was some sort of profanity. 

“Chill, I’m not here to fight you.” Atsumu raised his hands in defense. “Like I said, I just want to talk.”

“Then talk. Don’t waste my time.” Sakusa’s unreadable gaze was piercing through Atsumu’s soul, making it hard for him to breathe. 

“About what happened last time...well, y’know what.” Atsumu scratched the back of his head, trying to avoid Sakusa’s eyes. “That was very rude of me. Hell, I didn’t even know if you...swing that way. You must have been terrified and--”

“I do.” Sakusa interrupted, his voice devoid of any emotions. Atsumu blinked at him in confusion.

“What?”

“I _do_ swing that way. But do continue.” There was the slightest sign of amusement in Sakusa’s eyes, and Atsumu suddenly found himself at a loss for words. Inside his head, a robotic voice was loudly screeching _DO NOT COMPUTE_ , to the point that everything else around him seemed to have fallen deaf for a second.

“I...well,” Atsumu blinked rapidly as he tried to process the information that was just dumped on him. Even more so, Sakusa didn’t seem quite as mad as Atsumu had anticipated. “What I’m trying to say is that I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to just...invade your space and make you uncomfortable.”

“Yeah, you should at least have asked.” Sakusa added nonchalantly.

“Yeah, I should have---wait what?”

Sakusa took a stride toward Atsumu, closing the distance between them. Atsumu couldn’t quite read Sakusa’s expression because of his mask; God did he want to just rip it off.

“It’s just basic courtesy, don’t you think?” Sakusa tilted his head, a hint of smugness in his tone. “You come into my kyudojo, you play by my rules. That means if you want to do something, you should ask.”  
  


“But you would have said no!” Atsumu exclaimed, feeling a bit betrayed. “You literally told me to get out afterwards!”

It was Sakusa’s turn to be quiet this time. The sound of early winter breeze and rustling leaves filled in the silence between them, until Sakusa finally raised his voice.

“It’s because I was having a lot of doubts.” Sakusa explained calmly. “I have issues with people touching me. Frankly I hate it. It’s not to the point of a full-on panic attack, no, but I still react quite badly to sudden contact.”

“Oh,” Atsumu felt guilt wash over him like a relentless stream of icy water. “Shit, I didn’t know that. I’m sorry.”

“That’s the thing, though.” Sakusa went on, reluctantly. He sounded like he had gone through some serious self conflicts before he was able to talk. “I...I didn’t hate it when it was you. And that freaked me out even more.”

Atsumu stared at Sakusa for a while, contemplating; and then, as if he was possessed by something, Atsumu took another step forward. They were even closer now, only an arm length apart; yet Sakusa didn’t flinch away. That in itself gave Atsumu a sense of courage he never knew he had before.

“What are you saying, Omi-kun?” Atsumu reached out a hand and held onto the sleeve of Sakusa’s jacket. Sakusa’s shoulders instinctively recoiled, but he didn’t try to swat Atsumu’s hand away. His eyebrows were furrowed in deep reverie, and the tips of his ears were tainted pink - though it could have been Atsumu’s imagination after all.

“It doesn’t make sense.” Sakusa exhaled softly. “I always thought you were annoying. You showed up everywhere I went just to spite and distract me. I thought I would never fall for your antics, but it was working, because now even during practice I couldn’t help but see you everywhere.”

“I told you, I do have a devastatingly handsome face.” Atsumu looked at Sakusa with a toothy grin splattered wide across his face. His pinky brushed against the back of Sakusa’s hand ever so slightly - to his surprise, Sakusa’s skin was impeccably warm. Not that Atsumu fantasized about it often or anything, but he had always expected Sakusa’s skin to be ice cold, just like the expression that he wore on his face.

“You’re intolerable.” Sakusa scowled, but Atsumu knew he was all bark and no bite. “God, I shouldn’t have agreed to meet you.”

“Yet here we are.” Atsumu traced the prominent vein on Sakusa’s hand with the pad of his fingers. He said under his breath. “Is this okay, Omi-kun?”

For a split second, Atsumu had thought that Sakusa was going to reject him. That’s why when the taller guy finally nodded, he didn’t even try to hide his sigh of relief. He gingerly pry open Sakusa’s palm before interlocking their fingers, taken aback by how each digit fitted together like they were made from the same mold. He could feel the callouses Sakusa had accumulated from years spent holding the bow, coupled with a slight hint of sweat where their warm skin met - and something about it made Sakusa seem impossibly endearing and _human,_ in spite of the stoic facade he often displayed in front of other people.

“This is not so bad, isn’t it?” Atsumu commented, giving Sakusa’s hand a gentle squeeze. 

Sakusa hummed in response. The blush had crept up to the high of his cheekbones now, rendering the mask useless at covering his expression. Atsumu felt himself getting greedier as time went by - holding hands with Sakusa was nice, but it wasn’t nearly enough. He thought back to that amazing yet shameful memory of that first kiss that they shared, and found himself craving the taste of Sakusa’s lips once again. He wondered if Sakusa would really let him, had he asked. 

Well, there was only one way to find out.

“Omi-kun,” Atsumu smoothed his thumb over Sakusa’s. “Can I take off your mask?”

“Okay.” There was the slightest hint of hesitation in his voice, but then Sakusa inhaled deeply and repeated, this time with more affirmation. “Okay.”

Atsumu’s heart almost jumped out of his chest when his fingers met the shells of Sakusa’s ears as he was about to remove his mask. The skin there was burning hot, but Atsumu saw that as a good sign. Once the obstacle was finally out of the way, Atsumu took a moment to trace his gaze over Sakusa’s delicate features – the perfect slope of his nose, his smooth pale skin, the curve of his plump, clearly moisturized lips. He could even see a faint scar on the right side of Sakusa’s cheek, probably from an archery accident. At that moment, Atsumu realized Sakusa wasn't nearly as flawless as he had imagined, and it made him all the while even more perfect.

“If you’re just gonna stare forever, I’m going back to my room.” Sakusa snapped, the blush on his cheeks had crept all the way down his neck at this point.

“Ain’t cha eager, Omi-kun?” Atsumu teased. “But we agreed to play by your rules, so I should probably ask first---”

It was Sakusa who finally surged forward, pressing his lips against Atsumu impatiently. The wave of shock and euphoria washed over Atsumu at the same time, and he grabbed Sakusa’s shoulders on instinct, trying to regain a sense of balance. Sakusa’s lips were supple; they were softer than any girls’ Atsumu had kissed, with a faint taste of vanilla chapstick – Atsumu had never considered himself to have a sweet tooth, but suddenly he couldn't seem to get enough of that artificial sugary flavor. They parted for a second for air, but Sakusa’s lips were immediately on his again, chasing the inviting warmth of his mouth. Contented, Atsumu thought they could have remained like that forever, entangled in each other's arms with their lips melting together, but the muffled giggles of some students passing by knocked him back into the reality that they were still out in public.

“That was. Yeah.” Atsumu was still struggling to comprehend what just happened. He felt dizzy – Atsumu _never_ felt dizzy. “I think I just died and went to heaven.”

“Too bad, you're still here with me.” Sakusa said with an amused smile on his lips – the same smile Atsumu had seen that afternoon in the kyudojo, under the warm sunset hue. He just had to lean in and kiss Sakusa once more, still unable to believe that he could just... _do_ that and get away with it.

“Ya mentioned that...ya don't mind physical contact with me, right?” Atsumu asked again, just to confirm that he wasn’t hallucinating the whole thing.

“Did I not make myself clear enough?” Sakusa tilted his head, seemingly perplexed.

“Okay. Okay, good.” Atsumu let out a sigh of relief. “Because ya should get used to this.” Another kiss. “God, I could never get enough of this.”

“Don’t be greedy, Miya.” There was a flash of white, perfect teeth as Sakusa grinned at him.

_Kissing ya is good, but seeing ya smile is the best,_ Atsumu thought to himself subconsciously.

*

Atsumu went on to win the kendo championship that year.

Or, that was what he would like to tell people. Poor performance during practices was one thing but missing club meetings was another – needless to say, the days Atsumu had spent moping over Sakusa had caught up to his ass and cost him his slot in the winter tournament. Of course he was less than happy about it, but Atsumu had set his goal to get back on track for spring. On the bright side, since he was free during this season, he could watch Sakusa practice archery – and maybe that, in itself, was a form of self-care.

“Not gonna lie, I expected you to be...sadder. About not being able to compete.” Sakusa commented, putting on his glove as Atsumu observed from the other side of the kyudojo. No matter how many times Atsumu had seen him preparing for his kyudo ritual, he still remained as fascinated as the first time.

“What, ya want yer _boyfriend_ to be sad or something?” Atsumu raised an eyebrow. “It’s not a big deal. It sucks, but it happens sometimes.”

“You're quieter and less annoying when you are sad.” Sakusa shrugged nonchalantly, getting into his position. “I like that.”

“And here I thought you liked me loud.”

The arrow Sakusa was holding pierced through the air, cutting Atsumu off. It missed the target by a far cry. Atsumu couldn't help but feel a little bit smug, knowing the effect he had on the mighty, composed Sakusa Kiyoomi. By his own standards, it was a victory – a victory that he desired just as much as, if not more than, a win in a kendo match. 

“Letting you in here during practice was a mistake,” Sakusa sighed, lowering his bow, clearly dissatisfied.

“Maybe it’s time ya fix that?” Atsumu stood up from the floor where he was sitting and walked toward Sakusa, an ominous smirk on his face.

“You’re asking to be banned from my kyudojo forever?” Sakusa turned to face him with a frown. If Atsumu had not known better, he would have thought Sakusa was genuinely mad at him; however, at this point, he knew pretty well that it was just the default state of Sakusa’s face.

“No, I’m saying that maybe _practice_ should be over,” Atsumu grabbed the bow from Sakusa’s hand. His boyfriend let him, watching his movements with curious eyes. “I mean, ya can't focus with me here anyway, right?”

“You’re so full of yourself,” Sakusa complained, but he obliged when Atsumu asked for an arrow. If anything, he seemed utterly entertained.

“Ya know what,” Atsumu made sure to give him a playful wink before getting into the shooting position. “I’m full of surprises, too.”

Atsumu took deliberate time to find the right aim before he raised the bow and shot – this time with way more certainty and determination than the first time he had tried it. To Sakusa’s bewilderment, the arrow flew swiftly across the field in front of them, and hit a spot just a few centimeters underneath Sakusa’s own arrow. 

Which means, right in the center.

“How was that?” Atsumu looked at Sakusa with a complacent, almost snobby grin. “Not bad, eh? I‘ve been watching a lot of YouTube tutorials lately.”

Sakusa took a deep, shaky breath.

“I feel like I should kiss you,” he strode forward, “and I should do it now.”

“Your kyudojo, your rules.” Atsumu smiled as Sakusa leaned down. “Please tell me the storage room is clean and empty.”

“That could be arranged.” Sakusa’s breath was hot against his lips now, and Atsumu decided that delaying this any longer would be an actual sin. So he did the reasonable thing and sealed Sakusa’s mouth with his, exhaling in alleviation at the addictive sensation.

“Sakusa-san, I moved the things in the storage room as— _oh my god._ ”

Both of them turned toward the sliding door of the kyudojo, utterly terrified. Hitoka Yachi – the poor manager of the kyudo club – was holding an oversized yoga mat in her arms, her eyes wide with fear (and perhaps excitement?) and her face flushed red. Sakusa blinked at her, and then at Atsumu, who then turned to stare at Yachi again, unsure of how to react. 

“Um.” Yachi broke the silence first, awkwardly. Atsumu couldn’t blame her. “I guess I’ll...go now? Sorry for the i-intrusion.”

Just as quickly as she had come, Yachi disappeared before neither of them had any time to defend themselves – though what they were doing left little to imagination, anyway. 

“New rule, Miya.” Sakusa finally spoke after what seemed like an eternity. “We keep this,” he gestured his hand between himself and Atsumu, “outside of the kyudojo.”

“Agreed.” Atsumu gulped nervously. “Wait, does that mean the storage room is off limit too?”

“Miya.”

“I’m kidding.”

Sakusa didn’t laugh. 

And the next day, when the school newspaper came out with their faces splattered on the first page next to a flashy title saying **_Rival Club Captains Dating: Enemies to Lovers in Real Life?_** , he sure as hell didn’t laugh either.

**~fin~**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m thinking of maybe making a sequel if I have more free time...Should I? Let me know in the comments 😚


End file.
